


Friendly Kidnappings

by softmoonlight



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Post-Game, Post-Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order, Star Wars: Rebels References, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, in that Hondo's characterization here is more based on how he is in Rebels than tcw, ngl this definitely isn't very whumpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softmoonlight/pseuds/softmoonlight
Summary: “How are things going, baby Jedi?”Thenineteen-year-old‘baby Jedi’ in question scowled at the floor and began tracing his finger absently across the grimy metal between his splayed legs. “Justfantastic.”The last thing Cal needed was to be kidnapped by some maniacal Weequay pirate, but these things happen when you're a fugitive from a galaxy-wide empire. It's been an interesting day.
Relationships: Cal Kestis & Hondo Ohnaka, Katooni & Cal Kestis, Katooni & Cal Kestis & Hondo Ohnaka, Katooni & Hondo Ohnaka, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Hondo Ohnaka
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952500
Comments: 22
Kudos: 167
Collections: Whumptober, Whumptober 2020





	Friendly Kidnappings

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt choices: "pick who dies" | **collars | kidnapped**
> 
> I guess I'm just gonna be a day late with all of these oops
> 
> This is almost so whump-free it’s fluff, tbh

Cal was left alone for approximately five minutes before Hondo Ohnaka sauntered up to the force field _yet again._ He groaned softly, bracing himself.

“How are things going, baby Jedi?”

The _nineteen-year-old_ ‘baby Jedi’ in question scowled at the floor and began tracing his finger absently across the grimy metal between his splayed legs. “Just _fantastic_.”

 _Same as the last_ _**fifty**_ _times you asked._

“Good, good,” the infuriating pirate chattered, smiling genially, “I want to be a nice host for my very special guest!”

For a moment Cal considered asking who Hondo’s special guest was, but then he remembered this mad old pirate thought it was _him_ , and his scowl deepened _._ Some treatment Hondo gave his “guests.”

Cal didn’t know where the man got off with pretending like he was his friend. Hondo was the same person who’d jumped him in an alley, tried to recruit him, and, when _that_ obviously failed, drugged him unconscious, stolen his lightsaber, taken BD-1 who knew where, slung a Force-suppression collar around his neck, and stuck him in what appeared to be a holding cell where pirates stashed their victims before they met their gruesome fates.

Most likely, Hondo would sell him to the highest-bidding slaver, or in the worst-case scenario, turn him over to Darth Vader himself. Either way, Cal’s obsession with hunting down the rumored artifact on Telos had made him stupid and careless, and now he was here.

He knew there was a lesson here somewhere, but he was too tired to parse it out.

Hondo was no friend of Cal’s. Just his kidnapper.

By Cal’s estimate, they had been in hyperspace for half a standard day—though there was no way to tell for sure from the literal brig. He’d long since missed the rendezvous. He could only imagine what the rest of the _Mantis_ crew thought happened to him.

He was hungry, thirsty, and cranky as hell, which meant every time he tried to come up with a plan he immediately lost his train of thought in favor of thinking very un-Jedi-like thoughts about Hondo.

Not that he could’ve escaped with a clear head, anyway.

Nobody else would have bothered to continue talking to their captive, yet Hondo wouldn’t. Leave. Cal. Alone.

In fact, Cal noticed with dismay, the pirate had apparently decided to keep him company for an extended period of time. He now sat on the floor not two meters away, legs crossed, the force field the only thing between them.

“A shame you must be in here,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “If only you had cooperated, then I would not have had to restrain you.”

He shouldn’t take the bait, but—

“Why would I. Cooperate. With. Pirates.”

“Why else?” asked Hondo with a grand flourish of his hands as though it were obvious. “Business!”

“Business,” Cal echoed dully.

Hondo pointed a wrinkly finger at him. “Exactly, you are learning! There may be hope for you yet.” Cal rolled his eyes, but Hondo either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Hondo Ohnaka always knows what’s best for business, and a Jedi is one of the best things.”

“A Jedi needs to _survive_ , not pillage. Making a _profit_ is not our priority.”

Hondo waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, survival is very important, but don’t you ever want _more?”_

Cal tilted his head—as much as he could in this damned collar, anyway—and considered. Yes, he did want more, but not the way Hondo did. He wanted the Order back. He wanted to preserve his culture before all hints of it could be destroyed by the Sith. He wanted to simply _live_ without wondering whether he’d get a red lightsaber through his chest for the trouble.

“Sure,” he said slowly. “But what I _want_ isn’t realistic. And it’s selfish to only think about my own desires when there’s so much more relying on me.” _Potentially the future of the Jedi Order itself._

Hondo shook his head to himself in what appeared to be disappointment. “Typical Jedi. So noble.”

“Besides,” Cal added, smirking, “your pitch sucked. You ambushed me on an Imperial-occupied planet in the middle of the night. I probably could have been convinced if not for that.”

Hondo barked a hearty laugh. “Perhaps I was wrong. It seems you don’t need teaching in the art of piracy after all.”

…why was everything the man said so _grandiose_?

“Yes, well, you grow up as a fugitive in the Imperial era, you get pretty good at sleight of hand.”

Cal suddenly realized he was smiling and bit his lip to reel himself back in. He wouldn’t let Hondo manipulate him.

There was an awkward silence, which Cal was determined not to break. The pirate should not have been so amiable or disarmingly easy to talk to.

“I finally realized what seemed so familiar about you, Cal Kestis,” Hondo said after a while, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You remind me of someone. My best friend.”

Oh, great.

“He was a Jedi too. Surely you have heard of him? His name was Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Wait. What?

“Did you just say _Master Kenobi_ was your friend?”

“ _Best_ friend,” Hondo corrected, “and yes, I would like to think so.”

His eyes gleamed brightly, and Cal was alarmed at his sudden certainty that Hondo was about to launch into a long, fantastical story. And sure enough, he inhaled deeply and began, staring far off away into the nonexistent distance, “When I first met him, around the beginning of the old war, it was because the Republic sent him and his former padawan—that foul-mouthed Skywalker boy, you know—to confirm that the Ohnaka Gang had captured Dooku. Distrustful, the whole lot of them in the Senate, but I agreed.”

“You captured…a Sith?” Cal interrupted.

He had so many questions, and a faint burgeoning jealousy that, if this truly happened, _Hondo Ohnaka_ of all people had apparently met his childhood heroes, but Dooku was definitely the strangest part. Cal didn’t remember much about the Sith pre-Vader, but Dooku didn’t seem the type to be anywhere near pirates…

“Don’t sound so skeptical, boy, it happened! Of course, I was surprised too, but if there’s one thing Hondo Ohnaka’s learned, it’s you Force users think too much of yourselves! It makes you stupidly easy to catch.” He stared pointedly at his current caught Force-user for a dramatic pause.

Cal frowned, too caught off-guard to be angry. Huh. Insults aside, that was actually a surprisingly good point.

“Anyway, as I was saying. Dooku crashed his ship, and he had no way off Vanqor, so the Ohnaka Gang took the opportunity to lock him up in our compound over on Florrum. He was very _fancy_ and proper the whole time, you know…”

Hondo continued his tale of major Clone Wars players’ exploits that felt more like storybook fables than events that occurred only a decade ago. They grew increasingly ludicrous, and Cal couldn’t probe Hondo with the Force to tell if it was a lie—probably by design—but, true or not, listening to it comforted him in an odd way. He remembered being a child in the Temple, eagerly reading over whatever reports from the front lines he could get his hands on. Back then, he was naïve enough to think of war as a crusade and not the brutal mess he later learned it was.

Besides, if there was one thing he remembered from the war, it was that if anyone was capable of such absurd feats, it was the Team.

He had finished the Dooku-Kenobi-Skywalker story of them all tied together like the leadup to some punchline, and was now onto one about Darth Maul and his brother Savage when Cal felt the familiar pull of the ship returning to realspace.

Reality came crashing back in, and Cal’s face fell. This was it, then.

Hondo jumped up, clapping his hands together. “Aha, we are here! You must forgive an old man for losing track of time. Not to worry, there is no rush for docking papers and such. No Imps bother with this place.” He pointed at Cal sternly, as though dealing with a recalcitrant toddler. “Do not try to escape, baby Jedi, or it will be very painful.”

“Like I can even go anywhere,” Cal muttered.

“That’s the spirit! I will be back soon with another very special guest. You will like her.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Cal blessedly alone, but with the torturous knowledge that the next time he saw Hondo, it would be to hand him over to some horrible end.

Lack of imperials suggested shady, so a bounty hunter, slaver, or some sort of other underworld, Hutt-employed criminal. None of which were ideal, but he’d take a chance of eventual escape over torture and certain death at Vader’s hands.

And Hondo had said he’d _like_ this new person? In what universe would he like a friend of Hondo’s?

Cal sighed. He may be cut off from the Force at the moment, but he could at least try and meditate to calm his nerves, since you didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to do so. It wouldn’t do much good to be panicking whenever they returned, and he could think of nothing better to do.

His latent trauma still made it hard to truly sit still, but after a while, he managed something resembling a light trance. The fear was still there, but thankfully muted.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard voices. Bickering voices.

One obviously belonged to Hondo, and the other was female, as Hondo had said about his “other guest”, but that wasn’t what threw Cal. It was that the second voice sounded startlingly _young_.

And whoever it was, judging from their tone, they were apparently not afraid to rake Hondo across the coals.

As they got closer, Cal managed to pick up on the actual conversation.

“—if you’re setting me up, Hondo, just know I’m armed in more places than you can even imagine. _And_ I’m trained. Mostly.”

“Setting you up?” Hondo gasped, offended. “Please, my dear, when have I ever lied to you?”

“How about _literally all the time?”_ retorted the woman, but strangely, she sounded more fond than angry. “Need I remind you of the Clone Wars? I first met you when you _kidnapped_ me!”

Oh, so this was Hondo’s MO, not just random opportunism…

“Alright, alright, never mind! We are here, anyway. No more reminders of Hondo’s old failures.”

Hondo stepped into the room first, coming to lean on the far wall with unsubtle fake casualness. Slower, cautiously, the woman followed, stepping inside as though the floor would fall out from under her.

She wore a dark cloak that obscured most of her features, but Cal recognized the sign of a Tholothian from the numerous long lekku-like tendrils poking out of the hood. They were humans with lekku mutations.

Apparently unable to contain his suspense any longer, Hondo launched himself towards her and began tugging insistently on her arm like an excited child. “Katooni, look. I found one of you!”

Cal frowned at that, not sure what he meant. He could feel the Katooni’s eyes on him, even if he couldn’t see her features clearly. Her hands had balled into fists at her sides.

For a moment, no one said anything—although Hondo, for some inexplicable reason, was shifting his weight over and over in anticipation.

Then Katooni gasped and whirled on the pirate. “What the _kark_ , Hondo?!”

“What?” Somehow, the Weequay looked genuinely taken aback.

“Why do you have a Force-sensitive teenager collared and imprisoned in your ship?” She held out a hand. “No, wait, why do you have _anyone_ collared and imprisoned on your ship?”

Cal’s head spun. She was angry _for_ him, which was appreciated but also completely unexpected. What was going on here?

“He was being uncooperative and refused to join my crew,” Hondo replied, as though it were obvious. “So I decided to bring him to you. I did what I had to do!”

“Oh, for Force’s sake. Release him,” she ordered.

Hondo cut a nervous glance at Cal. “But—”

“Hondo. Shield and collar. Now.”

Grumbling profusely under his breath, Hondo did as she said, keying some code into the panel by the door. The red force field flickered then vanished, leaving Cal finally able to see the rest of the room normally again.

Hondo nudged his head at her. “You can do the collar.”

Katooni scoffed lightly. “Coward,” she muttered, but she crossed the threshold into the cell and knelt in front of Cal anyway.

He regarded her warily, still unsure what was happening. So what if Katooni appeared nicer than he’d expected? Appearances could be deceiving. For all he knew, this was a trick to get him to accept this holdover without a fight.

As if sensing his thoughts, Katooni raised her hands slowly, telegraphing her movements, and pulled the hood down to reveal her face in full.

Cal stared.

He hadn’t been wrong when he guessed she was young, but he didn’t consider exactly _how_ young that might mean. From the looks of her, she was his age or close to it—a teenager herself. Her features were round and smooth, although a telltale blaster shot scar marked her neck. For a long breath, her gaze held his unblinkingly.

“I’m going to take this off, okay?” she said gently.

Cal nodded. He’d take any advantage he could get.

“Good. Just…don’t attack as soon as I’m done,” she whispered, then leaned forward and grabbed at the tight chain around his neck. It took a while, but he could tell she was intently focused on what she was doing.

At last, the oppressive blanket blocking him from the rest of the universe fell away as the collar did. Cal breathed in, needing to feel, to sense—

His awareness brushed over Katooni’s mind.

Scarcely a second later, a soft pulse of acknowledgement answered him.

Cal’s eyes flew open, meeting hers with a soaring sort of disbelieving elation.

“You’re...” he breathed, not even daring to say it.

Katooni nodded, her face splitting into a wide grin. She pulled back her cloak to reveal a lightsaber strapped to her hip. “I am.”

“See! I told you that you would like her!” Hondo piped up. “Hondo always knows best.”

Cal and Katooni shared a long-suffering glance before Katooni shook her head to herself and stood up, offering him a hand. Cal took it, still in numb disbelief that he could feel another fully connected light side Force user again.

“How…” he began, then cut himself off abruptly when he realized that might be just as painful of a topic for her as it was for him.

“It’s okay, you can ask.”

He didn’t want to push, but he needed to know _so badly_. “How many of you are there?”

Katooni squeezed his hand sympathetically. “Including me? Five. My youngling clan and I were together when the orders came through.”

_Five._

That word felt like a gift from the Force itself.

“Come on,” she said, tugging him forward. “I can feel how hungry you are. You need some food in you. This guy’s a Jedi sympathizer, or so he says,” she added, glaring a little at Hondo, but without much true heat, “but he sometimes forgets to actually take care of them.”

“Ah, I missed you, Katooni.”

“Missed you too, old pirate. Just…stop kidnapping people, okay?”

“Then how would I ever convince you to come visit?”

Cal tuned out their banter, no longer able to even marvel at how quickly his fortune had turned.

Five people.

Maybe there were far more of them out there than he’d ever considered.

**Author's Note:**

> -Once again, I prove I am incapable of true whump. Oops?
> 
> -By my estimate, the kids in the tcw youngling class were probably 8-12 years old, and that was set 20 BBY. Katooni seemed on the older side, if not the oldest, so her age here (in 12 BBY) is 18-20.
> 
> -Said youngling class was originally supposed to have a spinoff, so I headcanon they survived Order 66 even if the show fell through.
> 
> -Pretty similar "ending" as my first whumptober fic, but what can I say? I really love the idea of the Jedi finding each other and being thrilled about it. It's what they deserve.


End file.
